Things You Don't Deserve
by Distant Storm
Summary: Kai watches over them all. He's their captain, and he knows it's his duty. This is just a look into what happened to make him this way. And a little friendship to sum it all up. No pairings. Could quite possibly help spawn another fic... R&R please!


**disclaimer: I don't own beyblade.**

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Things You Don't Deserve

He looked over in their direction every few minutes, every once and a while, when yelling began and arguing persisted, and the times when silence consumed them. Now, he'd never admit that he was indeed watching over them, he had a hard enough time with saying that he was indeed their friend.

Now, however, he doubted it was necessary. It was basically something that went unspoken, but they knew he obviously gave a shit about their health, as when Ray had attempted to storm off in anger after that kid with the wind bit-beast, he had stopped him then put a stop to the offending kid himself. A slight ache resurfaced from the faded scar on his arm. He'd gotten pretty beat up, all for their sake.

His amethyst-grey eyes scanned over their figures. Max and Daichi were both their beaming, hyperactive selves. Tyson was fighting Ray, and Hilary, despite her obvious crush on Tyson, tried to remain as unbiased as possible, instead turning to the Chief to see what his comentary on the battle would be.

Every once and a while, he'd remember something. Something completely irrelevant to the situation. Or perhaps it was relevant, he hadn't decided; it depended upon the situation. Like his first taste of glory.

_The crowd cheering._

_The smoke and the explosions._

_The first launch._

_The crashing and collisions of beyblades._

That was the life he had chosen. The wind brushed the side of his face, and he felt the dried paint he had painted upon his cheeks this morning. It sent him spiraling into a similar reverie.

_His father._

_His father beyblading with him._

_Smiling, laughing, learning things he had never dreamed of._

_The resemblance between the two of them._

But things changed, the light that once surrounded him turned into muddy darkness.

_The slamming of the car door._

_His father's slightly nervous expression._

_His mother's silence._

_His grandfather._

_The hatered upon his face, and the way he looked at his son._

_The way they talked, not watering down the choices and the consequences._

_The proposition._

_The look his father gave him._

_The way his father regarded his grandfather._

_Refusal to cooperate on his father's part._

_The silent goodbye that never happened._

_His mother's refusal to speak._

_His outburst._

_The object pushed into his hand as his father passed by._

_The hand that held him back._

_His screaming._

_The tears that fell down his face._

_His mother's disgust._

_The words she finally spoke._

_His fate-_

_Rejection._

_Two counts._

_The words spoken to him by the devil._

_The propoganda._

_The lies._

_The brainwashing._

_The darkness._

_Sweet darkness._

_His darkness._

_Abandonment._

_The first time he had painted his cheeks, taking on an oath he had never shared with another living soul._

_Things he had never chosen, choking him._

_The blood on his hands._

_The sound of talons on metal._

_The only thing left of his father that he kept._

_The object placed in his hand._

_The cry of an untamable spirit._

_The cry mixed with one of his own._

_The things he'd never remember._

_The addiction he knew he had, but couldn't understand why._

_The haunting, terrifying dreams._

_The false assurance that nothing was wrong with him._

_The day he took the championship._

_The day the world looked at him as more than the silent disobedient brat._

_The day Tyson stole it all out from underneath him._

_The look in the blunette's eyes when he took the championship title from him._

_Another proposition._

_Acception? He didn't believe that._

_It would never happen._

_He didn't deserve that; he was worth nothing._

_The lies were his morals, his beliefs._

_They all wished to change that._

_They called him 'captain.'_

_He made them angry, he called them names, he treated them horribly._

_They didn't deserve that._

_But people never got what they deserved._

_They didn't think that._

_They told him that he was their 'friend.'_

_That was a lie too, right?_

He tried to shake it out of his head. It just didn't work.

_The allegiance to his grandfather._

_His return to the frozen lands of his birth._

_The darkness returning._

_The addiction returning._

_His hands._

_The blood on his hands._

_The people he broke._

_They left him too._

_They didn't understand._

_They wanted to change him._

_He didn't want that._

_They said it was for the best._

_They didn't know him._

_He left them behind._

_He left her behind, too._

_When he challenged them._

_Their saddeness._

_They blamed it on him._

_He wouldn't be anyone's puppet._

_Yet he was, and they knew._

_How were they right?_

_He was the one who had gone through it._

_He had them beaten._

_Then the blonde had shown up._

_He had taken his bit beast._

_Yet the runt still fought._

_They told Tyson._

_Told him it was time._

_He had no idea._

_His light was gone; black._

_Shadows of darkness._

_Tides turned._

_Suddenly, he was losing._

_He never lost._

_Shock pulsed through his body._

_Tyson's eyes were teary._

_How weak._

_Crying was weakeness._

_He wouldn't be weak._

_He would beat them._

_She had other plans._

_The fire._

_The water._

_The air._

_The earth._

_The combination._

_He had been wrong._

_And he knew it._

_When the unbeatable was beaten, he knew it was over._

_His eyes were open._

_His curse was no more._

_He wasn't going to be a puppet anymore._

_He knew who was holding him back._

_He felt something._

_Then he heard the crack._

_The ice._

_He was going to freeze to death._

Things always went full circle.

_A hand._

_This time was different._

_This hand wouldn't hold him back._

_This hand would pull him up._

_Pull him from the darkness._

_Put him back where he belonged._

_A tear._

_First time since he was ten years old._

_He needed that._

_He admitted that._

_He was sorry._

_For the first time in a long time._

_He was ready._

_He reached out._

_He was supposed to be their captain, to teach them._

_And yet, they taught him._

_He would defy the odds._

_He would be who he was._

_The underdog._

_The fighter._

_The prince._

_They brought him through years._

_He couldn't beat Tyson._

_Perhaps that was a blessing._

_Max looked up to him._

_Daichi didn't really like him, but when the going got tough, he knew Kai would defend him._

_Tyson viewed him as his rival, his best friend._

_Ray was his brother, in spirit._

_Hilary was his sister, though he'd never tell her that._

_Kenny saw him as a hero, as something beyond what he thought he deserved._

_They told him that he sold himself short._

_He would never tell them that they did the same to themselves._

_He was their captain._

_Anyone who touched them would pay._

_He would not be ashamed to have their blood on his hands._

_His power came with responsibility._

_And no bit beast stealing bastard would ever take them without killing him first._

_He'd never tell them that, though, somewhere, they knew that it stood._

Tyson ran up the hill toward him. "Come on, Kai, let's go! It's getting late."

His eyes were shut, and he made no effort to move.

"Dude, you awake?"

After another round of silence, the blunette laid down in the overgrown grass, tilting his head toward his captain, his arms behind his head.

Kai opened one eye, glancing Tyson's direction.

"Yeah."

"You okay? You seem kind of... well, off."

"I'm fine, Tyson," He said. They'd never know if he was fine or not, because even if he wasn't, he wouldn't tell them that.

"We just worry sometimes, you're not superman, you know. Someone's gotta look out for you."

The rest of the gang had heard this, as they had just recently come up the hill. They looked at Kai, who sat up slowly, then stood, brushing himself off.

Kai smirked, but Tyson saw it in his eyes. The smirk changed.

A smile.

A genuine, real, honest to God, smile. Happiness. What was going on here?

"You're all doing a great job."

Just like that, he turned around, and began walking away, his eyes shut, and his usual swagger slowed and relaxed. He didn't deserve them. He didn't need a mask. He didn't need anything like that anymore. He'd never say it, but he knew they knew.

He had them.

They had him.

He was their captain.

Everything would be okay.

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That was probably pretty bad. But I thought it was okay. So I hope you like.

Please review!


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